Juan (keeping back the newspaper). A very shameless little article—and quite without point. It must be put away. (Puts it in a pocket of his dressing-gown, but in such a way that it may be seen.) May the devil not so contrive things that Carmen may come and find the newspaper and read it in all innocence.
Laz. (withdrawing). It is true: you do well! (Walks about nervously.)
Juan (aside). And I had not finished reading it: I shall read it afterwards. (Takes up “Nana.”) This also is good. The spring with all its verdure. (Aloud.) Work, boy, work!
Laz. (aside). I shall speak to the Doctor this very day, that he may set my mind at ease. I know that nothing is the matter with me; but I want a specialist to assure me on the point. And then, with mind at peace—to my drama, to my critico-historical work, to my æsthetic theories which are new, completely new—and to Carmen. And with the muse at one side, recounting marvels in my ear, and with Carmen on the other side, pressed against my heart—to enjoy life, to inhale the odour of triumphs, to live for love, to satiate my longings amidst eternal mysteries.
Juan. Stupendous! Monumental! Sufficient to make one die of laughing. Lord, why does a man read? To be amused; then books that are amusing for me! (Laughing.)
Laz. Is that a nice book?
Juan (changing his tone). Pshaw—yes—pretty well. But these frivolous things are tiresome after all. (Sees Lazarus coming towards him, and puts “Nana” into the other pocket of the dressing-gown.) Have you anything solid to read—really substantial?
Laz. I have many large books. What class do you want?
Juan. Something serious; something that instructs you, that makes you think.
Laz. (going to the bookcase). Would you like something of Kant?